Dance the Night Away
by Emmithar
Summary: Sara and Greg at a Valentine’s Ball, but what happens when an old date intervenes? Challenge from the GregSara Yahoo Groups.
1. Chapter 1

**Dance the Night Away**

**By: **Emmithar

**Rating: **K+

**Disclaimer: **I do not own CSI or any of the characters, which is such a shame.

**Summary: **Sara and Greg at a Valentine's Ball, but what happens when an old date intervenes? Challenge from the Greg/Sara Yahoo Groups.

**A/N: **Challenge from GregSara Yahoo Groups. The idea is not mine, but the portrayal is.

* * *

**Chapter One: The Question**

After hours of not endless tossing and turning, Greg Sanders finally decided it would be in his best interest to get up. He was, after all, wasting more energy trying to fall asleep than anything else. May as well put it too good use.

And he did, for him at least. He started with the bathroom, cleaning everything from the sink to the tub, and then started in on his room. Two hours later no one could have told you that this was Greg's apartment…that normally you needed a map to find your way through. Everything was spotless, but Greg was still unsatisfied.

It wasn't his fault he was so restless, he could, and would, blame everything on Ecklie. It was he who brought up the LVPD Ball; it was he who informed them all they had to go, whether or not they wanted to. It was all for appearance, a charity issue. The city of Las Vegas enjoyed seeing the law enforcement contributing to a good cause.

This wasn't a problem…Greg was a social being, he enjoyed interaction, gigs such as this, and not that he wanted to brag or anything, but he was also a fairly good dancer, credited to his many experiences before. The problem was that he had no one to go with.

Years ago this wouldn't have been any trouble. There was always someone he knew of to call, a girl that would gladly have joined him even as a friend to dance the night away. Sure, his address book was still full of their numbers, but many had moved onto marriage, or actual boyfriends. Still, Greg wasn't even intrigued by those who were still single. That's because of someone he had met years ago, a certain someone by the name of Sara Sidle.

He let out a breath at the simple thought of her. Every waking moment since meeting her she had been on his mind, and even in his dreams he had fantasized the possibility of getting to know her better. Since then he hadn't breathed a word about his fascination with his fellow coworker, even still it was obvious he had a thing for her.

Maybe it was because he went out of the way to run her cases first, or maybe it was because he always paged her with the results as soon as they came through. Then as he moved out into the field he looked forward to working with her, as opposed for her. It wasn't long before the others had started teasing him, Greg either disregarding it, or soaking it all in, depending on what kind of mood he was in that particular day.

It was two days till the LVPD Ball, and Greg was becoming anxious. Halfheartedly he had hoped Sara would ask him…mostly because he couldn't find the courage to ask her himself. The desperation was obvious; if he went with anyone he wanted it to be her. But what if he asked and she said no?

Greg would rather live without the certain knowledge, than to take a chance and watch it all drift away. Why would Sara want to go with someone like him anyways? She humored him, but that was about it. They hadn't shared more than half a dozen meals together, all of which had been work related, and only two of the times had it just been them.

Only three times had Sara been over to his place, and only once inside…shortly after coming home from the hospital, the lab explosion that had somehow sentenced him to weeks of agonizing recovery. Her visit had lifted his spirits, but it somewhat dampened them as he realized the visit was out of pity, not concern.

Now, with careful study, one could see the problem at hand. How did you ask someone out that had little interest in you? How did you make them see how much you cared about them?

Greg had thought it over in his head; he could show up at the night of the dance, a box of chocolates, a bundle of roses, with intentions of sweeping her off her feet. He could leave notes here and there, and hope she can pick up on them in time. Maybe he could catch her when she was off guard, wrapped up in a case…all he would need was a subtle nod of the head and things would be grand.

But that would be mean and unfair…and needless to say Greg couldn't do that. There was no choice; he would have to stick to the old fashioned pick up lines. Most of which he hadn't used in years, and even then they didn't work.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, save for the fact Nick and Warrick already had dates. Even Hodges had someone, or so he heard as he was getting ready to leave after shift last night. How could Hodges have someone, and not him?

David would be coming with his fiancé, Archie had a girl that he had been promising to introduce everyone to. Catherine had another boyfriend. As far as he knew everyone would be coming with someone, save for Brass and Grissom…

He wondered who Sara was going with, if anyone at all. Surely someone as beautiful as her already had someone. He wondered bitterly who the lucky guy was. Glancing sideways at the clock he bit his lip, considering his options. It was still early for his shift, but if he stayed here he would only worry himself to death. Not too mention he could do with a little extra money, it never hurt.

* * *

"Sara, will you go to the ball with me?"

Greg cursed lightly under his breath as he shook his head. Ever since arriving here he had been pacing back and forth in the locker room, always keeping an eye on the hallway. If anyone saw him like this…

He came to a stop, reminding himself that no one would if he could keep it together. Sara was already here, he saw her car as he drove in. Greg had also heard that she was not going with someone. That was rumor that either she had started, or the truth that had somehow leaked out. She would never openly admit it…then again maybe someone had asked her, and she turned him down.

"I was wondering if you were going with anyone…" he breathed, closing his eyes. This shouldn't be this hard…

Coming against the lockers he banged his head against them a few good times, hoping something would pop in his head, but succeeded in only gaining a headache. He rubbed the sore flesh, sinking to the bench below.

How was he going to pull this off? He wanted to ask her, had already tried once before, the other day, but his voice there on the spot. Sara had asked him if he choking…how silly was that?

Greg laughed, shaking his head. Why was he this nervous? What was the worse she could do? Turn him away, break his heart, destroy all his hopes…but what was the best thing that could happen?

She could say yes, admit that secretly she longed for him as much as he did her, and kiss him right then and there…okay, he went too far with that one. The best thing that could happen was that she would say yes. But was it worth it?

He pondered this for a minute, imagining gazing into her eyes as the glided across the open dance floor, the pair lost in the music. The feeling of his hand on her slender waist, moving to her back as she drew closer…It was definitely worth it. And if he didn't make a move now, he would forever be found pacing in this room.

The hallways were empty, quiet now as it neared the end of one shift, waiting for the other to start. Last he had seen of Sara she was working in the layout room, a fresh case. Greg half hoped that Grissom would put him to work on it as well. In his head he rehearsed what he would say, moving to push the door open.

It had stopped almost as soon as he put his weight on it, and he glanced up quickly as there was a short cry. Greg watched, stunned as Sara backed up slowly, both hands cupped over her nose as she let out another low groan.

"I am so sorry…" he breathed quietly, grimacing as Sara pulled her hands from her face, blood pooling in the palm of her hands.

"The doors are made of glass," she pointed out irritably, pressing her hands back to her face. "You can see right through them…" her voice was muffled, nasally almost.

"I honestly didn't see you," he apologized again, reaching out at first, only to draw back. He wasn't certain of what to do.

"Of course not," she replied bitterly, walking away from him slowly. Greg moved up quickly, offering his help which, surprisingly, wasn't accepted. "You weren't looking where you were going."

They had made it to the break room, were Sara sat down on the couch. Greg was already wetting a cloth, watching her from over his shoulder. By the time he made his way over there, Sara had leaned against the arm of the couch, doing her best to ease the flow of blood before it began to make a mess.

"Here," he offered the cloth to her, which she took easily, using it to replace her hands.

"Out of everyone in the lab you could have knocked, it had to be me."

"I said I was sorry," Greg apologized one more time. He sat back on his haunches, watching her. "Is it broken?"

He was honestly surprised when she laughed, pulling the cloth from her face as she folded it a different way. "I know you like to brag about your strength and all, but if you want to do that sort of damage, you need to buff up."

"Are you calling me weak?"

He was glad that she wasn't angry, but still felt guilty about the whole ordeal. Even her laugher wasn't enough to ease his culpability. Nervously he twirled his fingers around one another, staying with her until she was certain her nose had indeed stopped bleeding.

"It feels swollen," she muttered to herself, touching the sides tenderly.

"It's not…that bad," Greg tried to reassure her. Maybe it would have worked if he had first been able to convince himself.

Sara laughed, rolling her eyes in one of those 'yeah right' gestures. At the rate it was going, she would be bruised by the end of the night. "Okay, so you've nearly decimated me, what else do you have planned for tonight?"

"Would this be a bad time to bring up the ball?" he wondered.

"That lame dance?" Sara scoffed, easing herself up into a sitting position. "Never gone to it, never will."

"I thought we didn't have a choice," Greg pointed out warily, taking a seat next to her.

"I'd like to see Ecklie try and force me to go."

"So, I can assume you're not going with anyone?"

A smile crossed her face as she watched him, "I'm not going at all."

"Not even if someone asked you?"

"Who would possibly want to go with me?"

Greg considered the question carefully, his mind yelling at him to just get it over with but the words were lost. All he had to say was one little word, the one little word that he could no longer find.

At his silence Sara took the initiative to speak. "I suppose, if some handsome, charming guy, who was looking for a way to make up for nearly busting my nose…I suppose I can. Just for his sake you know, so that he doesn't feel guilty about what he did."

Greg smiled sheepishly, though thankfully as he glanced back up at her. Sara was waiting expectantly, helping him along though refusing to say anything until he asked. Drawing in a breath he asked what would probably be the most dramatic question in his life.

"Would you go to the dance with me?"

Her reply came swift, on a sweet note despite the nasally sound. "I would love to."

**TBC**


	2. Shopping

**Chapter Two: Shopping**

"Don't say a word," Sara warned as she sat down next to him. Her nose was still swollen, as well as bruised, and her voice was muffled, leaving her sounding congested. It was a constant reminder of the guilt that rested on his shoulders.

"I was going to say that you didn't look too bad," Greg offered up, letting a smile cross his face.

"Right," Sara resisted the urge to roll her eyes, "Grissom has promised a short shift tonight; after we get something to eat we'll need to go shopping."

"Shopping?"

She nodded. "I don't have anything to wear for the dance tomorrow night, and I know you don't have anything either."

"A pair of slacks and a button-up shirt," he offered, to which she laughed.

"I've seen your button-up shirts, they're hideous."

"They are not," Greg argued, "they're classic."

"Outlandish," Sara shot back.

"Unique."

"Obscene."

Greg held up his at the last comment, a signal for her to stop. "Only that one was, and I got rid of it."

"They're still appalling," she stated, trying to make her point come across. Sara knew he took pride in his… individuality, but there was little to no chance that she would go to the dance when he was dressed like that.

"Fine," he spread his hands apart, an indication that he was giving up. "We'll go shopping."

She smiled, taking pride in the simple fact that she had won. "After shift then…"

He had heard all the horror stories from friends, had read about them in magazines, even watched several scenes unfold on the television. Still, Greg had never thought that he would find himself in one. The man didn't shop, not by his definition. When it was needed he ran into a store, grabbed what was needed, and ran back out. Toiling around in a public place such as this was by no means enjoyable.

* * *

He had long ago found a decent tuxedo, Sara wouldn't let him get away with anything less. Not only did it look nice on him, but it was one he could afford without having to lose an arm or leg. Now all he had to do was wait, the same thing he had been doing for the past two hours.

Leaning against the wall he let out a sigh, checking over his shoulder. "Come on Sara, there has to be something you like in there."

He knew how many different dresses she had tried on, mainly because he had continuously ran them back and forth between the changing rooms and the racks. His feet were tired from being on them all day, but his mind was beyond exhausted from constantly doing nothing but think.

"You do want me to look good, right?"

Greg scowled, hating how she could use that against him. "You look good in anything," came his strained reply.

She said something in return, but it was lost and he was too weary to ask her to repeat herself. Instead he wandered off, staying close to the adjacent room in case she needed something else to try on, or if by some miracle she finally made up her mind.

Some of the clothes in there were questionable; stuff that he only seen woman wear in magazines. Hardly could he imagine Sara wearing something of the sort. He fingered a multicolored outfit, pulling it to the side so that the light shone through the fine material that you could more or less see through. A grin covered his face as he glanced up in Sara direction, letting the garment fall back into place. That would be the next outfit he would bring if asked of him.

Before long he found himself resting once more against the wall. He was growing anxious now; at this point, working a double probably would have been easier. Behind him the door opened, and he glanced up hopefully as Sara poked her head out.

"Get over here," she hissed under her breath, her eyes scanning the area around them. Greg made no sudden movements, but only walked over slowly, till the point he was within arms length of Sara. It was then she closed a hand around his wrist, pulling him in quickly.

"What are you doing?"

She motioned for him to be quiet, turning away from him so that she was facing the mirror, her hair drawn over her shoulder. "Zip me up there."

Shuffling the clothes from his arm to over his shoulder he worked at the zipper, stepping back to admire her outfit she had chosen as she turned for him. "What do you think?"

She was breathtaking, Greg had to admit, studying the sleek black dress. It ran the length of her body, sliding over her hips, widening out as it neared her legs, ending just under her knees. There was silver trim at the bottom, in a flowery pattern, small enough to not draw attention, but a lovely accent if noticed.

"It comes with a jacket too," she breathed, taking his silence as a sign of disapproval. She reached for the thin jacket that was still hanging on the rack, but Greg stopped her, shaking his head.

"You look wonderful…"

He leaned in, their lips catching one another. He wasn't sure how she would react, but was ecstatic when she returned the kiss, arms wrapping around his neck. His hands ran the length of her body, working to find a way under the fabric, but she stopped him with a laugh.

"Not here," she giggled, a resemblance of school girl who had been caught doing something naughty.

He pretended to pout, though knowing that she was right. "Why not?"

"For one I haven't even paid for the dress," she reminded him, "and you'll have to leave so I can change back."

Greg huffed, rolling his eyes. One minute ago she had been eager and willing, and now she was shying away. If that wasn't the only problem, he had to get out of there without anyone noticing.

Sara gave him an extra boost, pushing gently on his back even before he had checked to see if the coast was clear. As soon as he had been invited in, he had been tossed out. Thankfully no one was around to see.

It took little more than a few minutes before she was ready, for which Greg was thankful. The only high point of this shopping trip had been in the changing rooms, and that had been cut short. With a simple smile she waltzed out, Greg close in tow. They were all ready for dance tomorrow night, but Greg was beginning to worry. If he didn't get any sleep soon, that was all he would be doing during the best night of his life.

**TBC**


End file.
